]]>https://thelastacronym.wordpress.com/2014/01/03/2013-in-review/feed/00.000000 0.0000000.0000000.000000arsalan2laithWomen Make the World Go Roundhttps://thelastacronym.wordpress.com/2013/11/14/women-make-the-world-go-round/
https://thelastacronym.wordpress.com/2013/11/14/women-make-the-world-go-round/#commentsThu, 14 Nov 2013 01:40:47 +0000http://thelastacronym.wordpress.com/?p=614Traveling the world, one gets the sense that the treatment of women may be the most dramatic cultural difference from country to country. It would be easy for one to generalize that women are treated with more respect and dignity in more developed, economically advanced societies, but unfortunately, that is not always the case. I have found that there is usually something positive to be learned from nearly every society’s approach to women, even if it is not so obvious, as was the case in the countries of the Persian Gulf where I lived and worked. I have also found that nearly every society, no matter how developed, is lacking in some way or another in its appreciation of women, their place in society, the dignity they should be afforded, etc. This may be partly due to my bias on the subject and partly due to the fact that there is no monolithic, “correct” approach to gender issues that spans the globe and humanity. But I can certainly speak to the women of my family and the importance they hold in my life and the life of my other male relatives.

It’s easy in a family like mine to under-appreciate the value of the women in our lives. It is not because of any shortage of women, they are the dominant sex by numbers in every living generation. But possibly, for that very reason, it has become easier to cloister ourselves, as men, in our own little world of male ignorance and ineptitude. I do not want to give the wrong impression of my family, because we are not a family that disrespects women and we certainly do not view their place in the family or society differently than the average American family, but that just might be the problem. Where does the average American family place a woman’s value and importance in the family and society? These thoughts are more acute now as I watch as my wife manages pregnancy with brilliance and poise.

Rather than answer the fluid question above, I would rather focus for a moment on what I know. I have been married for nearly two years now, and my wife has given my life the missing sauce. Yes, that’s right, I am like tasteless pasta. I have come to appreciate the women in my life in a different, more complex way now that I am married and expecting a child. They challenge us to think differently, colorfully is probably the best way to describe it, and without the cold ordered insensitivity that rules our thoughts. I guess I should not use the pronoun “us” too loosely, as my feelings and thoughts on this subject are likely not those of “us” men as a whole. But what has brought me to this gender-based topic is the flurry of life events my family has experienced in recent years. From pregnancies, as mentioned before, to surgeries, career changes to engagements, and unfortunately, even death, our family has had its share of, “Oh wow! Seriously?” moments. Each of these moments has been punctuated by the magnificence of the women in my family.

No one has quite the punctuation that my wife does. She is emotionally intelligent. In fact, she is to emotional intelligence (EI) what Marie Curie is to chemistry. I am, on the other hand, emotionally challenged. That dynamic will never change, although with my wife’s help, I am becoming slightly less dense. My mother and my grandmother also gave me important lessons in EI growing up, but I was too juvenile to realize the importance of such subtleties. My father and grandfather (sorry guys) are generally almost as lacking as I am in that department (inextinguishable burdens to my mother and grandmother), which is why I lumped “us” into the stereotyped males. We are dense, like mercury, capable of measuring temperature, but incapable of understanding why it is freezing or burning hot.

I want to take a moment to thank all the women in the world for putting up with “us” and doing it willingly. I am not sure why you do. Perhaps there is some hidden, mystical, even divine reason. Maybe we offer something, anything worthy enough for you to be willing to put up with a bunch of emotional bricks. Or perhaps, and more likely, you take pity on us like pets who depend on their owners for survival. And rather than see us hopelessly stumble through our emotionless lives like blindfolded idiots on a steep slippery wet path leading down into a murky abyss filled with the skeletons of less fortunate men, you reach out a hand, steady our stride, and bring us kicking and screaming into the light.

What is a man’s legacy? What does he leave behind for his children to appreciate? Has his legacy made the world a better place? It would be too much to say that my father’s legacy is his cooking, but not by much. He has been on a culinary adventure for years, perfecting his craft and taking the opportunity to teach me and others along the way. Now that he is semi-retired he has more time to focus his efforts, and the resulting recipes and dishes he has perfected (and sometimes created) hark back to the land of my forefathers. An Iranian immigrant to the U.S., my father’s cooking has evolved to reflect both his love for Persian cuisine and his affection for rich, delicious dishes that he has encountered along the way living in Louisiana most of his life. Lately I have taken an interest in learning the tricks he has used to refine the time-honored dishes that have satisfied our family’s hunger, along with my mom’s down-home cooking (God, I love those biscuits!), for over three decades.

Why now and not earlier (or later) in my life? My interest has probably peaked because of a confluence of events. My wife and I are now proud homeowners, which, I presume, is the quintessential place to begin or carry on the traditional foods of one’s family. We are also expecting our first child in the coming months, and we hope that he or she will use those fresh new taste buds to enjoy the classic’s from the TLA family cookbook. And as we prepare to leave for Honduras for our second assignment abroad soon, we want to be able to take the comforts of home with us to that foreign land. Of course being at the Foreign Service Institute provides time to think, that was rarely available in Bahrain. Finally, in classic “teach a man to fish” form, my father has also decided the time is ripe for providing me with a recipe nearly every other phone call, such that I would have been cockeyed not to take a few notes and preserve a tradition so carefully cultivated over the course of a lifetime.

Not ice cream, not cream cheese, this is Old World Yogurt!

My first step on this project was possibly the most ambitious, as the recipe was probably the most mysterious. Old world (OW) yogurt is something that evokes, for me at least, images of civilizations long gone. Mustachioed calvary in leather armor riding across middle Asian plains and elegant robed women would have enjoyed this form of yogurt. My ancestors from before there was a religion called Christianity, would have enjoyed this thick creamy creation that some Persian tradition holds, according to Wikipedia, as responsible for the prophet Abraham’s fecundity. When my father gave me instructions that included judging the heat of the milk by its frothiness, trusting my sense of touch to determine when it was cool enough to add the yogurt starter (which happens to be about five seconds before your finger starts to burn), and wrapping the pot in a blanket and putting in the closet for 10 hours, I knew it was unlikely that I would succeed in creating the dairy delight of my forefathers. But the ability to make sense of such “artistic” instructions, in lieu of a recipe that makes any sense, seems to be woven into my DNA and the almost whipped, thick as cream cheese yogurt that resulted from my efforts was so good that I called my dad to tell him, posted a picture of it on facebook, ate a bowl full of it with a heavy dark beer, and became so inspired that there has not been a day in the last six months when we haven’t had some of it in our fridge (thank you Trader Joe’s for your $3 gallon of whole milk).

Ab Goosht Ingredients

Ab Goosht in the pot!

My success led me to take on other, much more complex challenges. Next up was Ab Goosht, which literally translates to meat water. Trust me, it’s a lot better than the weak translation sounds. It should connote images of dishes that end with the phrase “au jus” instead. This incredibly rich lamb dish with potatoes and tomatoes, barley, turmeric and other delicious ingredients is served up either all mashed together with the juice on the side, or like a soupy stew complimented with overcooked, to the point of crunchiness, flat bread. I failed on my first attempt. There were many reasons why, but the most important being that I was weak-hearted in my seasoning. You must have the courage of your conviction when seasoning Persian food. It is not for the faint. We’re talking about pouring on seasoning in quantities that would make your average Scandinavian cry. It’s a genre of food for warrior poets, whose courage equals their creativity. The second time was the charm and along with a serving of the OW yogurt, I felt very much at home eating the rich goodness of my father’s homeland.

Canteloupe Smoothie – a gift from the Gods

I have tried a few other dishes since then, with varying degrees of success. The classic cantaloupe smoothie was a raging success. Qorme Sabzi, when made correctly, is a perfect blend of greens, kidney beans, and lamb cubes served with basmati rice. It was a favorite of my youth, and a dish that my mom perfected in her own right. My first attempt was once again too bland and definitely too heavy on the kidney beans. Too many beans result in a chalky taste and other less flattering conditions after the meal. Salad Shirazi, a side dish must for nearly a third of all Persian meals, I learned to make some time ago, but I have been perfecting my recipe recently, and it is now well on its way to reaching native status.

Qorme Sabzi ingredients

Qorme Sabzi preparation

Qorme Sabzi on the table!

What’s next? Only a conversation with my father will tell. But once you start on a project of this scope, it takes a lifetime to complete. That’s just fine with me. It will honor the effort and ingenuity of my father and his father, and give my children, and hopefully my children’s children, a piece of their past to enjoy in their bellies! I imagine my father’s legacy makes him feel at home in a faraway land with no blood relatives other than his progeny, and it connects him to his past. My grandfather would be proud.

Agha Joon – “Grandfather”

]]>https://thelastacronym.wordpress.com/2013/08/26/foods-of-my-father/feed/238.895110 -77.03637038.895110-77.036370arsalan2laithAb GooshtNot ice cream, not cream cheese, this is Old World Yogurt!Ab Goosht IngredientsAb Goosht in the pot!Canteloupe Smoothie - a gift from the GodsQorme Sabzi ingredientsQorme Sabzi preparationQorme Sabzi on the table!Agha Joon - "Grandfather"Self-portraits in the Third-Lifehttps://thelastacronym.wordpress.com/2013/08/15/self-portraits-in-the-third-life/
https://thelastacronym.wordpress.com/2013/08/15/self-portraits-in-the-third-life/#respondThu, 15 Aug 2013 16:26:56 +0000http://thelastacronym.wordpress.com/?p=566

Cloud Gate (aka the bean)

It’s been more than a while since I have drafted anything on my blog, and I like to think that there is good reason for that. My wife and I have bought a house, are expecting a baby, and have just completed a strenuous 6-month intensive Spanish-language course. What did I do to celebrate having survived some of the most wonderfully consuming months of my life? I decided to ditch town (thank you sweetheart) for a weekend and head to Chicago to meet up with some of my closest friends before we have a baby and move to Honduras.

Life has a way of pushing and pulling you in directions that lead you further and further from your closest friends of yesteryear. First you graduate college, the place where many these friendships form. Being that it is somewhat rare for “young professionals” to stay in the city where they graduate — at least for very long — inevitably, you find yourself on opposite sides of a country nearly the size of Europe. Soon you realize that the real world has prevented you from maintaining these friendships in a meaningful way, since doing so means trekking across France, Germany, all of Eastern Europe to Moscow to reach them, and with the notable exceptions of bachelor parties, weddings, and chance encounters, the 15 days or so most young people get off a year is just not enough to provide time to meet up with these close friends with any regularity. Or is it?

In the years since I graduated, my core group of friends has traveled to meet up and rekindle the spirit of our college days more than a few times. We skied in Utah and Colorado. My crew joined me in DC for a long weekend before I started my tour abroad in Bahrain. We met up for an adventure in Turkey and Jordan while I was abroad. And just this past weekend, we met in Chicago, to catch up and devour no less than three deep dish pizzas. I appreciate these moments more as we enter what can only be described as our third-life (no longer quarter, and certainly not mid). In short we have made it a priority to do two things: one, to meet up to ensure that our friendship remains an important part of our lives and two, to choose interesting places to entice ourselves to make that a reality.

Chicago was no different. In fact, it was incredible. As I already mentioned, we consumed deep dish Chicago-style pizzas from Lou Malnati’s, Gino’s East, and Giordano’s, the three most renowned pizza establishments in the Windy City (UNO’s just seems lame). Consensus says that Giordano’s is the overall best pizza, although Malnati’s crust was pretty incredible. We visited a number of local bars near our AirBnB (try it while it lasts) in West Town, but were not very impressed with many of the local beers, although I was pretty happy with my Bell’s Oberon and some billiards. We saw amazing works at The Art Institute, which turned out to be a royal flush amongst a sea of four-of-a-kinds, full-houses, flushes, and straights. We watched the Chicago Fire win a game in their awesome soccer-specific stadium, walked all around downtown (the bean {aka Cloud Gate} is so cool), got our money’s worth from the Chicago Transit Authority, visited historic Humboldt Park a Puerto Rican barrio, played mini golf, went to Lincoln Park Zoo, saw the Cubs lose to the Reds at Wrigley, relaxed in a Russian Spa, had breakfast Puerto Rican, Filipino, and Mexican-style, saw an improv show, and finally, the icing on the cake was a hot dog (really a sausage dog) from Hot Doug’s. And our soundtrack was a mix a Blurred Lines, Daft Punk, and Macklemore, with a taste of Florence. We even managed to find time to play our obligatory rounds of backgammon, the game I imagine we will play when can no longer walk or talk and receive our food from a straw.

But let’s be honest, that incredible list of activities only served as a backdrop for what was really a weekend catching up with my crew. It would be difficult to find four guys at more different points in their lives. There is the newly single guy, who ended a long term relationship and successfully works a somewhat autonomous gig in the city he grew up in. There is the divorced guy, who has found new love and a new non-profit job on the West Coast far from his roots. There is the small town guy who just moved in with his girlfriend and is hoping to get a promotion and a raise in the job he has worked for a while in one of the closer big cities. And then there is me: married, having a baby, and headed to the most dangerous country in Central America (and the world, if you don’t count war zones).

Art imitates life…

You would think that we would have little in common, but the truth is that we have so much in common and so much to talk about. Philosophy, religion, politics, global warming, relationships, and sports are topics that only start to cover the breadth of our conversations. My friends’ ideas have given me new perspectives on life and the world we live in. They have provided me with some “real talk” on America, the country I love, but have not known intimately in a few years. The time spent apart gave us an opportunity to color the images of our personal paintings, abstract or impressionist, modern or post-modern, beautiful or grotesque, and to display them unashamed and inspired, ready to accept both criticism and praise. And as with all artists, this painting, this self-portrait, is just a phase, a moment in time, to capture the reality (or surreality) of now, but what future phase will arise is a story yet untold. Where in the world will we paint next?

As diplomats we are given the chance to learn languages as rare and unknown as Quechua and as common as French. This opportunity is at once a rare luxury and a humbling mind warp. More than two years ago, when I finished studying Arabic and headed off for the Persian Gulf to serve in Bahrain, I thought that most likely I would head to another Arabic or English-designated posting for my second tour, but I fortunate enough to receive Spanish training for my consular assignment to Honduras.

Unlike Arabic, I immediately found Spanish appealing. Arabic was a struggle the whole way through, with deep periods of disappointment, as it seemed I would never be able to communicate with any degree of comfort. It’s true that today, if someone asked me if I speak Arabic, I would be dishonest to reply with anything more than “A very little bit, nothing more.” Spanish, on the other hand, I soon discovered, was all around me in Washington. If I wanted to I could completely immerse myself in the language without feeling distant from where I live here and now. I was very excited about all the Spanish I would be speaking and the people I would be speaking Spanish with in the District. That feeling faded about a month in, when I realized it was not going to be all pupusas and cerveza on the way to learning the mother tongue of Miquel de Cervantes, nor was I going to be speed-reading Don Quixote anytime soon.

Language learning is like a roller coaster: you start off slowly by steadily moving up a steep hill, chunk-clink-chunk-clink like the Cog Railway up Pikes Peak, and then dive off a cliff into a loop-di-loop, cruising at insane speeds only to slow to a crawl for a moment to breath before you head into the final rush that you hope will end well (and hopefully with your lunch still in your belly), and when you get off the ride, you either rave about the adventure or swear you will never do it again. I love roller coasters, but inevitably you get a little twisted up and after that first month I was in a steep rapid decline reminiscent of the Texas Giant. Other life issues come up while you ride this coaster and they can make that ride a bit more challenging. It can feel as though it began to rain Skittles in the middle of your ride – they are delicious, but you just wish that the storm could have waited until after the ride, so that you could have flipped an umbrella upside down to catch a few and to enjoy later. Instead, you just get pelted in the head by colorful candies that seem extra hard to catch and enjoy while you are cruising at 100 miles an hour.

Eventually, I learned to slow the pace down, or perhaps I just got used to it, and the experience began to become fun again. I also realized that you don’t have to kill yourself to learn a language, self-flagellating with notecards that read “preocuparse es un verbo reflexive” and “por y para para los idiotas” or “yo soy imperfecto, pero no soy pretérito” (i.e. studying until you can’t see straight as though you were an Arab or Jew in Ferdinand and Isabel’s Spanish Inquisition boot camp). The reality is that that sort of studying may help some, but only results in fatigue and anger for me. I discovered this around the time I was reaching my breaking point with the language. It was after a three-day weekend in which we fled to Long Island for a family wedding and spoke very little Spanish. When I returned, I discovered that something strange but amazing had happened: I was speaking without thinking for the first time and vocabulary I never knew I had seemed to spill out into my sentences like homemade guacamole, sour cream, and spicy salsa on a pile of otherwise generic tortilla chips. I call this little miracle – passive digestive learning (PDL). Without actively studying, much that I had painstakingly tried to absorb had finally sunk in. All that was necessary was a little time for my brain to shutdown, reboot, and process all that it had been bombarded with for the last few weeks, while I just had a relaxing weekend with my family.

Now, as I near the end of the roller coaster ride, I look forward to the final twists and turns. They are likely to churn my stomach, with one final scary dive, the dreaded final exam. But I feel better prepared now, with my seatbelt on and even the Skittles have stopped falling, at least temporarily. I had a conversation with a Spanish-speaking friend on the phone yesterday, and for the first time I felt that I was communicating real ideas and making sense, and without the aid of body language and hand gestures that prove to be so valuable in class. Other plans to utilize my newfound interest in Spanish seem more interesting than ever as my wife and I are planning on going with our friends to see a concert by a Colombian singer, I am going to re-watch Will Ferrell’s indelible classic Casa de Mi Padre, and I going to upgrade my Spanish YouTube browsing from Pulcino Pio to Isla Presidencial(OK, so I admit, if you clicked on those links, you will see that isn’t much of an upgrade. This is the famous Madrid set show I am actually planning on watching). Gracias por su atención. Que tenga un buen fin de semana mis amigos!

]]>https://thelastacronym.wordpress.com/2013/06/09/espanol-es-una-montana-rusa-para-mi/feed/1arsalan2laithThe tools of the trade.TLA’s Best of Bahrainhttps://thelastacronym.wordpress.com/2013/01/22/tlas-best-of-bahrain/
https://thelastacronym.wordpress.com/2013/01/22/tlas-best-of-bahrain/#commentsTue, 22 Jan 2013 15:15:13 +0000http://thelastacronym.wordpress.com/?p=549My colleague and former office mate runs a blog called Two Crabs. It’s a professional operation he’s got going on over there. Book recommendations, a travelogue, thoughts on work life, the blog is a real powerhouse among Foreign Service blogs. Just before his departure from Bahrain, he posted an exhaustive list of just what the title of this suggests post suggests: the best of what’s out there to do in Bahrain. There is no way to top that, but as I reread his post I realized we differed on as many of our opinions about this little island as we agreed upon. This is not the first time my colleague and fellow blogger has been featured on this blog. Perhaps you remember Peace Out Man, where I semi-roasted my brother-in-bureaucracy. Here’s my take (with minor variations to the original work) on his epic project:

Presenting the first (and not necessarily last) TLA Best of Bahrain Awards! TLA is off to new horizons, to lands unknown, but not without first imparting a little of my less than expert institutional knowledge gained spending over 22 months on this rock on the Western edges Persian Gulf.

RECREATION

Best Friday Brunch: Meh… If I’m really honest about it, I didn’t much care for Friday brunches. It was overpriced, over-boozed, and overrated. You end up spending half the day eating and drinking, and then you end up unable to do anything with the rest of your day and to kick you’re able to enjoy a headache that lasts well into the next morning. I can think of better ways to spend my Fridays.

Best Beach: Al Dar Island is an under appreciated spot with great views (albeit mostly of oil refineries) and good times. It’s nice to grab a beer and food and lounge on a beach cabana. We wanted to rent one of the overnight cabins with some friends but never got around to it. Honorable Mention: There is a little public beach down on the south western coast called Al Jaza’ir that was a lot better than friends described, and my wife and I sat on a piece of cardboard (it’s more ground up seashells than sand) and ate cheese, salami, and crackers one afternoon.

Al Dar Island

Best Tourist Attraction: Qa’lat Al-Bahrain (Bahrain Fort) is by far the most spectacular historical monument in Bahrain. It is a UNESCO World Heritage Site and home to five forts on the seafront and ruins of civilizations that date to times B.C. However, the most striking remnant of the past is the Portuguese-constructed fort whose minaret-shaped turret is hard to forget. It is also a great place to people watch, as Bahrainis of all stripes converge there each evening (especially in the fall and spring) to enjoy the walking paths, ride their horses, and dip their feet in the waters of Persian Gulf. Honorable Mention: Another newly-christened UNESCO WHS, the Pearling Pathway, traces its path through the northern island of Muharraq. It is difficult to find and hard to follow, but for the adventurous traveler, it is worth the time and energy.

Qa’lat Al-Bahrain

Most underrated tourist attraction: The Manama Suq is a fun spot to frequent if you live in Bahrain, but if you wind through the suq, passing all the gold and trinket shops, as well as the tailor shops and remittance brokers, you will finally reach the intersection where a number of the most important Shi’a religious centers face each other in a perpetual stand off, unwilling to give any more sacred ground to the others. It is the site of the most fervent of the bloody Ashura processions each year, and the crossroads of an uprising. Make sure a protest is not planned for your visit.

Most overrated tourist attraction: I really wanted to love the Bahrain Formula 1 Grand Prix. I do not regret attending the event last year, but it was overpriced, under-attended, and an attempt to persuade the world that everything is just fine — while that couldn’t be much further from the truth. And on top of all that, it costs a fortune and really hurts the eardrums. At half the price, in a less divided society, and with a good set of ear plugs, this could be an attraction I’d recommend.

Water Parks and Amusement Parks: Stick to Disney.

DINING OUT/NIGHTLIFE

Best overall restaurant: Masso at the Palace Hotel was the best recommendation I received during my tenure as a Political Officer in Bahrain. Although I can’t verify the veracity of the story, I’ve heard the private chef of an Emirati Sheikh ditched her gig and was offered the opportunity to create her menu at the newly renovated Masso. Whatever the story, the ambiance reminds one of a medieval abbey, while the food is anything but humble. Honorable Mention: Honey Thai is tucked in an old building in the corner of the suq and features terrible service, with a shabby interior, but the best Thai food on the island. Warning: There is no such thing as medium spicy.

Best of the rest: Bahrain has easily the best food in the Persian Gulf. I know what you’re thinking: that’s not saying much, but really, Bahrain is an excellent place to enjoy a pretty good variety of food.

If you want great Indian food you can head down to Qudaibiya and enjoy some real Indian food, veggie or meat-filled. Don’t waste your time with the more expensive spots in town, the food is no better and the patrons wear too much deodorant.

For good sushi don’t go cheap. Instead, hit up the high-priced Buddha Bar sister restaurant Bushido. It’s over the top and worth the extra dinars every once in a while.

Good pizza is hard to find, and frankly I usually preferred giving The Hunger Line a call for a delivery Papa John’s pizza (and there is even a Pizza Hut and Dominoes for those with less refined palettes).

If a burger is what you are craving, nothing beats Elevation Burger at Seef Mall, although Blaze burger is a good second best if don’t want to fight the mall traffic.

Mexican food is half-decent, and you might as well go to Senor Pacos, so that you can enjoy the Filipino singer cover Hotel California in Spanish.

Speaking of Filipino food, Bahay Kubo is a great option, if you have the patience to deal with bad service. Go with a big group and get the karaoke room, but you’ll have to find the confidence sans alcohol.

There are a lot of choices for English food, but I’d prefer to just go to the Rugby Club with my mates and grab a grilled steak on Wednesday nights (assuming I know someone who is a member).

I never discovered a great Lebanese restaurant (disappointment) in Bahrain, although I am sure there was one, but it was nice to have a few decent Persian restaurants. Go to Parsian for a delicious meal and a decorum that’s overdone, but representative. You could also try some fast food from one of the Isfahani restaurants that dot the island.

If you want a decent shwarma there are stands all over the country, but my favorite was Al-Shorfa, near the Molotov battlefield of Janussan.

But, for the best of the best of the rest look no further than the Turkish delight of Iskanderoon Grills. Our motorpool dispatcher recommended the place to me when I first arrived and I have been enjoying their delicious breads, yogurt and hearty meat dishes ever since. It is a can’t miss restaurant.

Best place to grab a beer: It’s got to be Jim’s Beer Garden in Adliya, the walking nightlife district where every expat finds themselves spending a significant amount of time.

Best people-watching opportunities: CoCo’s, also in Adliya, serves no alcohol, but has easily the most charming atmosphere in Bahrain. It’s two-story restaurant is located in an old home and has no sign outside to designate it isn’t a private residence. The food is great and since they don’t serve alcohol, you can see equal parts Bahrainis and expats at the tables sipping frothy peach iced teas.

Best cheesy over-the-top themed joint: Trader Vic’s takes the cocktail on this one. The famous/infamous Prime Minister owns this place and the Polynesian theme transports the patrons to some place near Tahiti. The beef cho cho and duck tacos make for fun eating experiences. Downside: the bethobed Saudis that chain smoke and stare at the waitresses who don skirt with slits up to their hips.

Best to avoid: Any two-star hotel restaurant or sketchy massage parlors, where the services likely include more than you bargained for, according to local lore.

SHOPPING

Best mall: I don’t really have a strong preference, but my wife has told me that City Centre has the best shopping on the island. One tip, avoid the malls on Wednesday and the Thursday nights if you don’t like insane traffic. Mall shopping is the national pastime for most Gulf countries and Bahrain is no exception.

Best local experience: Manama Suq offers the flavor of a Middle Eastern shopping experience, although most shopkeepers are South Asian. The suq (Arabic for market) is setup with a few different zones that include spices, gold, cheap toys, tailors, and random other shops interspersed throughout. Opposition activists have taken to calling for protests there lately, so pay attention to our demonstration notices before you start searching for a knock-off Rolex.

Manama Suq

Best tailor: After a very long search and many questions asked of locals, I found Ghulam Morteza’s tailor shop and ordered a number of great suits. He used to make suits for the former Emir, but perhaps his reputation has taken away any sense of urgency, because it is not unheard of for him to take more than two months to deliver on an order. My favorite tailor has to be Shabbir Sharafali, whose shop is just his last name. He weaves a good story and will go out of his way to make sure you are satisfied. I got a three piece black Mo hair (had no idea what this was a month ago) suit with a match pocket as my last hurrah, and I was not disappointed.

Best grocery store: After shopping at a number of places, I finally settled on Al Jazira in Zinj as my favorite spot to get groceries. It was quick, small, and yet stocked with nearly everything you could want. It had the sin room (for pork lovers) and allowed you to avoid navigating a mall to get groceries at one of the mega stores like the French brands Geant and Carrefour. A fun alternative is LuLu Hypermarket whose target market is South Asians and offers an insane produce selection. At least a third of the fruits and vegetables available I had never seen in my life.

Best nursery: My hobby is gardening and Bahrain has a number of great nurseries to keep your garden stocked with great plants. All along Budaiya Highway there are a number of great nurseries. When I left Bahrain I gave away all my plants, but were the most popular parting gifts (well, that is other than our alcohol).

Plants from a Bahraini nursery.

Best Persian carpets: Bradran has the best carpets, hands down. Many people who pass through the Middle East hope to scoop up a beautiful carpet at a fair price. What they usually end up with is a sub-par carpet at a steep price purchased from some sleezy guy that probably has never been to Iran. Bradran is owned by the prominent Kazerooni family, who traces its roots to the village of Kazeroon in Iran, and whose transnational links provide it with an intimate knowledge of rug origins and artists. They are fair in their prices and willing to bargain. They also provide the best cleaning services. Avoid carpet alley — it is there for the tourists and thus, there to cheat the tourists.

Best regional getaway: With the onset of the Arab Spring, travel opportunities have diminished for those who value their safety. Jordan is close, full of biblical, Roman, and pre-historic history, and still relatively safe.

Best flight: The one home to the States on Lufthansa. Our cat survived the winter journey and apparently spent time at the animal lounge, according to the Lufthansa attendant, probably sipping a cocktail and enjoying the long-haired female kitties from abroad.

600 people reached the top of Mt. Everest in 2012. This blog got about 3,300 views in 2012. If every person who reached the top of Mt. Everest viewed this blog, it would have taken 6 years to get that many views.

When my colleague asked me to draft up something for Vietnam for the embassy newsletter, I was excited about the prospect. The trip had been worth documenting, and I had a dozen ideas of different things I might write about. But as I am nearing the end of my tour, I found little time to spare to dedicate to the project. Then I was struck by an idea that was fresh and interesting, and probably better than anything I would have written myself. I could interview my wife, who accompanied me on the trip to the land of Ho, and get her perspective. It had been around two months since our trip and I realized it was probably the perfect time to capture her thoughts on Vietnam, while they are still fresh, but she has had time to process them and decide which ones will be part of her long term memories. Ever the diplomat, she agreed and so, without further ado here is the totally impromptu interview:

A: Yes, you can move those [decorative vases I put in dumb location where our cat could knock them over].

Q: OK, can we do that after the interview?

A: Yes.

Q: Thank you for taking the time to talk with me today. I know you have a busy schedule.

A: I do.

Q: I really appreciate the opportunity to talk to you about your trip to Vietnam.

A: …(silence)…

Q: OK, nothing to say about that then?

A: (laughter) I’m very happy to talk about my trip to Vietnam. It’s one the best trips I have ever taken.

Q: Great. Save all the Vietnam stuff for the interview. So, Vietnam: how long were you in Vietnam? What were the cities you visited?

A: We were in Vietnam about nine days and stayed initially in Hanoi. Then we took a boat trip out to Ha Long Bay before returning to Hanoi for the final days.

Q: Lodging. Let’s talk lodging. What can you tell me about the Hanoi Hilton? (pause) Just kidding. Tell me a little bit about where you stayed. Would you recommend it to your friends?

A: We stayed in a Sofitel in the heart of Hanoi. It wasn’t the Metropole, but it was a Sofitel.

Our Sofitel in the background.

Q: What’s the Metropole?

A: The Metropole is this famous hotel that all of the stars stay at. It’s astronomically priced.

Q: You sound like you wanted to stay there.

A: No (laughter) I didn’t. I loved where we stayed. Normally, I like to stay in a more rustic place, but for us Vietnam was probably one of the most foreign travel experiences we’d ever had. So, being able to return to a place where they had a moderate grasp of English really helped us center ourselves and have a home base for planning that was friendly and comfortable.

Q: Was that in the middle of the city?

A: Yeah, it was right in the middle of the city, right around a bunch of Pho shops, mopeds buzzing and food stalls and high-end and low-end restaurants. It really was in the heart of it all.

Q: So, you would recommend it?

A: I would definitely recommend it.

Q: Now that you have visited Hanoi, what was the most surprising discovery you made in the capital?

A: That’s a hard question. Honestly, the whole trip felt like one big discovery. A completely different culture that I had ever experienced, and I had traveled to Thailand before.

Q: How did it compare to Thailand?

A: It appeared, although I don’t know, that Vietnam has fewer tourists. Whereas in Thailand, obviously tourism is a booming industry for them. It’s a huge part of their economy. For Vietnam, it didn’t appear that way. So, all of the tours we did, places we ate, excursions we went on, many of them appeared to be startups that only emerged in the last few years. Which only added to the delight of the experience. I know that I am sort of skirting your question, but I guess Ha Long Bay literally was the most beautiful place I have ever been on earth. It reminded me of – and you are going to laugh when I say this – it reminded me of a scene from Avatar, where they are flying between those floating planets.

Ha Long Bay

Q: So, you are a big sci-fi fan?

A: (laughter) No. But this looked like that. I mean these islands in Ha Long Bay almost looked like they were floating, alone, in this sort of pristine atmosphere that is indescribable. We really enjoyed that part of our trip. Vietnam is not a place I thought of as being a naturally beautiful, but I was completely mistaken about that.

Q: Vietnamese cuisine is beloved around the world. Having tasted authentic dishes, did you find it met your expectations?

A: Vietnamese cuisine was different than what I had experienced in the U.S. One of Aaron and my favorite restaurants – you may actually know my husband, he also works at the embassy.

A: Hmm, I guess we’ll get back to that. Um, Pho 75 is one of our favorite restaurants in Virginia. We go there and we get our steaming bowl of Pho. It was actually our first date. You can put a lot of sweet sauces in it and it has this sort of aromatic taste. I found actual Vietnamese cuisine, particularly Pho, to be a little bit milder. I think with the American version they play it up a little bit more – that clove and cinnamon taste. But, that being said, the kind of food that we were eating for a lot of money back in the U.S. was just sort of everyday breakfast food. Pho is a breakfast food in Vietnam, food that people eat in stalls on the street. They sort of load up and then go to work. For us, it is kind of funny because we view it as lunch or dinner food. But for them it is the most basic food they eat, it would be like toast or a bagel for us every morning.

Food stall beef Pho.

Q: So what are restaurants there like? What is your favorite dish?

A: The restaurants were amazing. We ate mostly at food stalls, because we thought that was more fun. But, I have to say that – this is such a boring answer – that I love fresh rolls. The combination of spring onions with shrimp with vermicelli noodles is so fresh tasting that it satisfies you with extremely clean and healthy ingredients. It’s something I hope I can bring home and make here, if I ever find rice wrappers.

Q: I hope you can bring it home as well.

A: Yeah, I know you hope that I can recreate the Vietnamese dinner magic.

Q: Tell me a little bit more about what you did outside the hustle and bustle of Hanoi. You mentioned Ha Long Bay. Did you visit any other sites? Were there any places you wished you had more time to visit?

A: I found the general tourism to be fascinating. We went to Hao Lo Prison, a bunch of the Hanoi sites like One Pillar Pagoda and Ho Chi Minh’s Mausoleum. I found all of that interesting, particularly the way the Vietnamese presented their own history. Obviously, from our perspective, having fought a war there, seeing the way they presented that war was very interesting to me, from a sort of historical perspective, anthropological perspective, ethnographic perspective – all those long words. I thought that was fascinating and I wanted to do more of that. There were a lot of museums that were under construction while we were there. The face Vietnam wants to show its visitors was fascinating to me. I also wish we could have visited some of the hill cultures, to see the way other Vietnamese live. Seeing all the different ethnic and cultural diversity within Vietnam would have been interesting, but we just didn’t have enough time for that.

Ho Chi Minh Mauseleum

Q: Speaking of, tell me about the people. Are there any striking characteristics or societal norms that you noticed? Did you feel welcomed as an American tourist?

A: I felt incredibly welcomed. I found the Vietnamese people to be so warm and eager to help. There was a moment when Aaron and I could not get across the street. We were in front of this wide boulevard in the government district and this really old woman saw that we were struggling and she took Aaron’s hand. I was holding Aaron’s other hand – and she took Aaron’s hand and led us across the street and let go and went on her way, just as if that’s what you do. I thought that was such a beautiful, selfless, generous gesture towards people who were so obviously foreign, and even from a nation that maybe she or her husband fought against. I was incredibly touched by that. I felt, in that way, that Vietnam was forward-looking and a dynamic culture.

Not so easy to cross the street.

Q: I bet you have ton of anecdotes like that from your trip to Indochina, but is there an experience that really stands out in your mind. What’s the first story you would tell if Vietnam came up in a conversation with friends over drinks?

A: It doesn’t make as great of a story, but when I think of our Vietnam trip I think of this woman who was our guide for our cooking class in Hanoi. This was probably the Vietnamese individual we got to know best, because we got to spend a whole day with her and her English was excellent. We got to know her, her family background, how she came to be a tour guide, and how she experiences life in Hanoi. She seemed to be incredibly proud of her culture and eager to share its traditions, especially their everyday family traditions. She said she had been married, but it seemed as if that was no longer the case, and she clearly was the breadwinner for her extended family. In her career, she was always finding ways to capitalize on her language abilities and her strength in making quick connections with people. I was impressed by the entrepreneurial spirit she exuded, despite her disadvantageous place in Vietnamese society as a young divorcee. I was impressed by how well she was able to articulate her pride for her nation. You meet someone and you are struck by their story, and for me she will represent Vietnam.

Trang – our cooking class tour guide.

Q: Would you have planned your trip differently if you had been with girlfriends rather than your husband?

A: I guess it depends on which girlfriends. One of the things I love about traveling with Aaron is that he is a little more fearless than I am, getting out into the streets and trying new things. He helps me overcome my fears and anxiety about those sorts of experiences, so if I had girlfriends like that similarly encouraging me to do the same sorts of things, then I would do the trip the same exact way. But if I didn’t, I would make sure that I really looked into which hotel I stayed in in Hanoi. I would view it as a sort of mother ship, where they orient you and help you plan your trip, because you will not encounter many people who speak English. That is part of the delight of it all, but it can also be very confusing. I would really make sure that hotel you stay in is a place you feel comfortable in and where the staff takes care of you. Then go explore this incredible country.

Q: Is there anything visitors should avoid traveling to such an exotic and less accessible destination?

A: Honestly, no. Of course here and there we had experiences like being overcharged for a cab. But those led to our understanding the country. Honestly, no. All of our experiences were fantastic. Even the ones that were a little touch-and-go have ended up being great stories. Overall, we felt like the Vietnamese were overwhelmingly willing to help us when we were in a bad situation and that will be my salient memory from our trip.

Q: And finally, can you sum up your Vietnam experience in a 144-character Twitter posting?

A: Vietnam is alive and open for business. Go see it. #PhoForBreakfast2013

]]>https://thelastacronym.wordpress.com/2013/01/04/vietnam-the-interview-2/feed/2arsalan2laithHanoiMore...Our Sofitel in the background.Ha Long BayFood stall beef Pho.Ho Chi Minh MauseleumNot so easy to cross the street.Trang - our cooking class tour guide.Cyclos - Vietnamse bicycle taxis that are notorious for overcharging foreigners.Reflections on a First Tourhttps://thelastacronym.wordpress.com/2012/12/21/reflections-on-a-first-tour/
https://thelastacronym.wordpress.com/2012/12/21/reflections-on-a-first-tour/#commentsFri, 21 Dec 2012 12:16:28 +0000http://thelastacronym.wordpress.com/?p=163I’m nearly done here. It’s time to move on. My replacement has arrived and she is learning to take over my responsibilities. This is the nature of this business; you move to a place, finally settle down and begin to understand what motivates the people that live there, and then it is time to say goodbye. As the days begin to pass more quickly and my colleagues begin positioning themselves to manage our office’s responsibilities without me, I find myself clinging to relevance. A relevance that is likely imagined, but seemed real every once in a while. I realize now that I am in no hurry to relinquish my life as a Political Officer in Bahrain, but I know that is exactly what is happening, whether I like it or not.

Bahrain Fort @ magic hour

The last two months have been a whirlwind, likely the reason I have not taken the time to post anything despite the wealth of topics to choose from: visiting Vietnam (the best trip we have taken on this tour), my wife finally moving from Doha to Bahrain, my father visiting for ten days, an election party extravaganza, helping my successor adjust to her portfolio, an official farewell party that moved me more than I expected (and featured speeches from two of my contacts!), and working as a control officer for the IISS Manama Dialogue (largest official event I have ever had to work that saw the likes of Deputy Secretary Burns, Senators [including McCain] and Congressmen, Assistant Secretaries Jones and Posner, as well as other dignitaries from all over the world).

What will I miss? More than I expected. The highlights:

the unique and colorful characters and personalities at the embassy

the adrenaline rush of working a high-level visit

the adrenaline rush of knowing Washington is waiting for your information

the local holidays and events that add a special flavor to the Bahrain experience

banter with my colleagues that breaks up an otherwise busy day

finding new restaurants and giving them to friends as recommendations

visiting my awesome tailor and chatting about what new suit I should get and why

hanging out with third country diplomats and comparing our experiences

The pros and the cons have coupled to make this a real adventure, filled with surprises and challenges that have solidified my view that we are trying desperately to do important and sometimes unenviable work abroad. I hope that I will have the same sense of satisfaction, and subsequent disappointment when I leave my next post in Honduras.

I will spend the next few postings reflecting on my experience in Bahrain and what we have to look forward to in the next few months and years.

It has been quite a while since I last posted and intended on doing so the past two weekends, but time and energy have been in short supply as of late. But another problem has plagued me as well: what should I write about that I (and others) might find interesting beyond 2012 (assuming we make it past the Mayan calendar end date). This blog’s purpose is in part to entertain (when possible) and in part to inform and finally yesterday, I finally decided on something that might be interesting years from now: how my living quarters in Bahrain differs from what we have come appreciate (or take for granted) back home in the States.

On the surface my apartment is not dramatically different than an apartment one would find in any large city across the U.S. It sits comfortably on the fourth floor of my seven story building and has a nice balcony. There are doors with locks that make sense, a kitchen, bedrooms, bathrooms, and a dining room. The furniture provided by the embassy is all pretty standard, and despite being a bit outdated (design name = modern colonial), it is perfectly acceptable. But, that is about where the similarities stop and the differences begin.

Let’s take a resident’s view of the apartment’s unique design (flaws). First, as you walk through the front door and take a left, you will find that you are immediately passing a smallish room, too big to be a closet and too small to be a office with a bathroom in the back. This, my friends, is the maid’s quarters. I have converted mine into a storage room cum pantry cum litter box depository. I have tried to imagine what it would be like for a full-time maid to live there and it was an unpleasant thought. My cat finds it stifling and avoids staying there for longer than a few minutes at a time. The room itself is 6’8″ by 6’2″ and has an adjoining bathroom/shower less than half that size. Larger accommodations exist in prison and RVs.

As you leave the maid’s quarters and enter the kitchen you realize immediately that the rectangle in the corner is not your momma’s refrigerator. It’s somewhere between a dorm fridge and something you would have used in the 80’s in the States before the advent of the double door mega-fridges of today. It’s not really a problem for me, but I can imagine it being a challenge for a family of four, which is what my apartment is supposed to house. There are other strange differences in the kitchen design like the fact that there is no drawer for silverware, there is a washing machine and dryer (which are one and the same; i.e. a single unit) built into the kitchen cabinetry, and there is a weird inaccessible space between the counter and the window that only my cat can find a use for (he watches birds there). Somehow loading dirty laundry into the washing machine just is not all that appetizing, so I try to do it between meals. The dining room is pretty standard in that it is a box with a light hanging down from the middle, and the living room also offers very few surprises.

That leads us to the bedrooms and bathrooms. The bedrooms are all pretty nice actually, but storage space seems to be pretty much an afterthought. There’s plenty of it for me, but if I was sharing my master bedroom with my wife then we would have little space to hang up clothing and not nearly enough drawer space. There is the same amount of storage in each room; master bedroom and tiny guest room have the same space for hanging clothes and equal cabinet/drawer space. Maybe guests in this region travel heavy and residents live light? The master bathroom has a nice bathtub which also has a shower head, but for the partition between the bathtub and the rest of the bathroom there is a clear piece of glass that does not extend more than a few feet from the wall. This means that using the shower in this bathroom is guaranteed to get your floor soaked and your ire stoked. I do like that the shower head is on a long hose that allows you to use it as a fire extinguisher if necessary. Each bathroom also has a feature that would surely frighten Americans, another tinier hose leading to a small sprayer, like you might find near your kitchen sink, near each toilet. Toilet paper holders are also close by, but in the master bathroom there is also a full-fledged bidet. It’s not as nice as the Prime Minister’s Ritz Carlton bathrooms where the toilet seat is warmed and your cleansing and drying process is controlled completely with the touch of a button on a wall-mounted remote control, but it does the trick (so I have heard).

That about covers the apartment itself, but I would be remiss to not address the peculiarities of the apartment building’s other amenities and its outdoor features. When you enter the parking area in front of the building you are confronted with slanted parking that allows you to park and exit the parking spot more easily. Great idea guys! Well, that is usually the case, but there is a fatal flaw in the developer’s design — there is no outlet. In other words their is only one way in and out of the parking lot. There is no reason why there could not have been another exit to allow the slanted parking to be useful, but where that exit would be instead has a nice curb and some thick grass (excellent irrigation systems here). So, each morning, those who park above ground must make a three to four-point turn to exit their parking spaces. Down below the building there is a parking garage, but it has been greatly reduced in size when the developer decided to install a swimming pool in the middle eliminating a number of parking spaces. The pool, which has yet to open, is surrounded by two rooms, but since it was built after the fact, it is partitioned by a wall and awkwardly straddles the two rooms. That might be a confusing image, but basically to get from one room to the other you must swim. Perhaps this was the architect’s (philosopher’s) intention to provide faux-privacy between the deep-enders and the more shallow types.

The building itself is lovely from outside, but if you live on east side of the building you cannot access the west side of the building without going down to the ground floor. Confused? I was too. When a friend told me that he lived on the same floor as me in another flat, I was never able to find the door to his residence. I found a closet with cleaning supplies, a weird door that lead into a crawl space in the wall and the stairwell, but no way to the other side of the building. Two people living on opposite sides of the fourth floor must go to the ground floor and walk to other side of the building take the elevator back up in to reach the other’s flat. These are not sprawling buildings with 30 flats on each floor; there are a total of six flats per floor…

All complaining aside, where I live is attractive, situated on the ocean on a man-made island, and full of lush vegetation. There is little cause for complaint, but there are some peculiarities and differences to the American style of living that have been interesting to discover and adjust to over time.